


Inheritance (Extra Chapters)

by rufeepeach



Series: Inheritance [2]
Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M, extra chapters, inheritance!verse, prompt fics
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-14
Updated: 2017-02-14
Packaged: 2018-09-24 04:54:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9703154
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rufeepeach/pseuds/rufeepeach
Summary: A collection of the extra chapters, drabbles, prompts, and other little pieces of story to accompany Inheritance.





	1. Prague, 2:30am

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle finally opens up to Mulan about why she left Storybrooke - set pre-fic

“Hey, Belle?”

Belle rolled over on her side, to face Mulan in their cramped double bed. It was rare for them to splash out on a private room, but they had a little more disposable income this week, and it was nice to not be bothered by other travellers’ curfew violations for a little while. 

“Yeah?” she murmured back. Mulan’s pretty face was creased in a frown.

“You ready to tell me yet?”

Belle sighed: the question was a common one, and she knew at some point she’d have to answer. On their flight to Dubai - the night they met - she had cried about the break-up. She’d sobbed about missing her ex, about homesickness, about how he’d kicked her out when she’d said she had to go. But once they’d reached the airport, fed and watered and feet on the ground, Belle hadn’t wanted to discuss it further. 

That was a year ago, when she’d hoped she and Mulan would remain friends, but had only known the other woman six hours. They’d had more important things to discuss - mutual plans, their pact to trade Beijing for Melbourne, and a promise to look after one another. 

Now, Mulan was her closest friend in the world, and ever-curious about the life Belle left behind: the life Belle didn’t like to talk about. Belle knew she owed her friend the full story. It was Mulan’s grace that had prevented her from returning in the first place, given her time to strengthen her spine and remember all the very many reasons she could never go home.

“Yes,” she said, and felt Mulan go still with surprise.

“You sure?”

“I owe you that much,” Belle sighed. “I… it’s kind of an involved story, though.”

“2am is sort of good for that,” Mulan replied. “I don’t know why.”

“I guess,” Belle swallowed, hard. She had never told anyone this story before. She had never wanted to. But somehow, she knew in her bones that she needed to. Someone needed to know the whole story.

“It started about four years ago,” she said. “I came home to Storybrooke after graduating college, and got a job as a babysitter for my dad’s landlord. He’s… God, how do I describe Cam? He’s not… he’s not a people person. Everyone in that town hates him, or so he claims.”

“But not you?” Mulan guessed. Belle snorted.

“No, not me,” she agreed. “Not then, anyhow.” She took a deep breath, and began the story from the beginning: the kiss in the kitchen, the days spent with Bae and the nights in Cam’s arms, her father’s suspicion, Will’s offer to pose as cover, and then, of course, the inevitable breakdown. At some point near the end, Belle felt a few tears roll down her cheeks, but she wiped them away quickly. She wasn’t willing to shed anymore tears over Cameron Gold, not anymore.

“It’s his kid, then?” Mulan guessed. “The one you’re buying gifts for?”

“Yeah,” Belle sighed. “Little Bae. I guess one day I’ll mail them or, or maybe I’ll have to go home, Ruby’ll get married or pregnant or something and make me go back, and I’ll get to tell him I knew him as a baby and give him his gifts.”

“You don’t think you’ll ever go home just… because?” Mulan asked. It broke Belle’s heart how easily she could shake her head, and know it was true.

“My father never wants to see me again,” she explained. “And there’s nothing left for me with Cam anymore. That’s… that’s well over. I think it’d be easier for both of us if we just… keep away. We’d only hurt each other.”

“Fair enough, I suppose,” Mulan wrapped a comforting arm across Belle’s shoulders, and hugged her close. “We’ll find a home, Belle, when we need one. One day.”

“One day,” Belle agreed. “But we’re not done moving yet, right?”

“Right,” Mulan nodded, decisively, and Belle hugged her back tightly. Who needed Cam and his soft dark eyes, his sadness, his warmth, when she had Mulan? She might have lost romance, but she’d found sisterhood, and in that moment she knew that that was enough. 


	2. First Defeat

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Belle buys Cam's bracelet in Florence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Flashback to the day Belle describes in chapter 21 of Inheritance, set pre-fic

It was raining in Florence.

Belle had felt the storm coming, the mossy heaviness in the air and the moisture gathering. The locals hadn’t; they were used to the sun. Once, Belle had been like them. Now, after fifteen years in New England, she knew how to smell rain.

When she’d imagined Italy, she’d always seen herself walking down the little streets and across piazzas with good friends, sunglasses perched on her head, the warm marble golden in the sun. She had not pictured wet stone, heavy clouds, the February wind and rain buffeting her raincoat. She had not imagined not speaking to a friend in person for weeks. This wasn’t how it was supposed to be. Being alone wasn’t supposed to feel so _fucking_ lonely.

Unbidden, Moe’s face flashed before her eyes. How many times had he warned her that she would fail? How many times had he told her how cold and dark, how dangerous life outside of Storybrooke - away from him - could be? She had never believed him. The future was always bright.

There was no light here. Florence was covered in dark, looming grey, and the only shelter she could find was a leather market, the stalls protected by a heavy canopy. With the weather so grim and so cold, the knowledge she would be in Melbourne with Aunt Clara in a week, warm in the summer sun, made her ache for home. She wished it was Australia she thought of first.

She took a seat on a step beneath the canopy, out of the way, and pulled out her phone. She checked the weather. Then she checked it again, for somewhere far across the sea.

_Storybrooke, Maine - 7am - 30ºF - Heavy showers_

It was cold there, too, she thought, tears in her eyes. The rain here could almost be the same rain. Something to share with them, with home, even when there was nothing left between them but distance.

 _He’ll be awake right now_ , she thought. _I could just call him, just hear his voice. Maybe he’d be happy to hear from me._

Her finger hovered over that little icon in her favourite caller list. His face - smiling, a day at the beach, not so long ago (forever ago, a lifetime ago) - looked back at her. In that moment, she didn’t care about what he’d done to her, how he’d driven her out, how he’d turned Moe into a monster. She just wanted to hear Cam call her his sweetheart, and tell her she was brave, a hero, and that she could conquer the world if she so chose.

She shoved the phone back into her bag, and forced herself to her feet. Not yet. Not now. Melbourne could be just what she needed: family, a return to the home she’d missed for so many years as a child, a little social contact. Maybe she could charge her batteries there, and the rest would come easier.

Belle dragged herself from stall to stall, distracting herself from the ache in her chest by examining every leather bag, necklace, jacket and bracelet she could see. It all looked the same. She didn’t need anything - had little room for it, anyway, her backpack was full enough of laundry as it was - and had no one to buy for. 

What would she even say, if she called him? What if he just hung up? What if he slammed the door in her face again, like he did the day after Moe threw her out?

She traced her fingers over a set of bracelets on the stall in front of her, lost in thought. It would have to be in person, she knew that now. She couldn’t just call him, out of the blue. If she came bearing gifts… if she could prove she had missed him, so deeply, so terribly that even here she couldn’t keep from thinking of him, then maybe he’d be more inclined to believe her.

A moment later, and ten euros poorer, Belle held a little gift bag containing a man’s leather bracelet. She thanked the vendor, and stepped away, holding it close between her fingertips.

 _If I still feel so empty after a week Melbourne, I’ll go home,_ she thought to herself. _Two weeks from now, if I’m on his doorstep, then this will be my reason._


End file.
